


we can beat them, if only for one day

by alineppenhallow



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Future Fic, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, POV Alec
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 15:09:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9390374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alineppenhallow/pseuds/alineppenhallow
Summary: He was never enough for his parents...





	

**Author's Note:**

> the title comes from david bowie's 'heroes' 
> 
> this is set some time in a future and is yet another cathartic piece of writing that i cried whilst writing. a recent family dinner has made me realise once and for all my mother is never going to accept me she doesn't even try so yeah, here's the pain that came from that

Alec leans heavily against the wall, swallowing thickly and forcing the bile back down his bone dry throat. The stairs aren’t helping his dizziness, the world tilts and spins dangerously and Alec’s fingers dig into the plaster to keep himself upright, not that it helps much. The ground shifts under his feet again or maybe he stumbles, he’s no longer sure. Alec wavers on the edge of the step, hovering between falling and regaining his balance. He throws his weight back against the wall before he undoes all his hard work and winds up at the bottom of the staircase again, this time with added pain. Alec shuts his eyes hoping for some relief for the agony and the dizziness. Eyes closed it’s definitely worse,  _ so much worse _ , and Alec whimpers. 

He slips down the wall to sit on the step, wincing as the deliberately slow move does nothing to stop the sharp jagged pain cracking through his back like splintered glass, it sets off a chain reaction of agony all over him and he knows he loses time. More than he thinks probably. It slips away like dust in a breeze and Alec can’t stop it. Every moment between one blink and another feels like an age and where time should heal all wounds, he seems to be the exception to the rule.

Everything hurts. Even his fingernails and he didn’t think that was possible. Like a heartbeat his whole body throbs and he’s not even sure if it’s physical or emotional or both anymore. It’s a whirling wailing maelstrom of pain and Alec’s can’t concentrate on anything. His unfocused mind bouncing from one thought to another. 

It inevitably circles back around to the Institute, to Izzy and Jace. Because physical pain apparently wasn’t enough for him.

He doesn’t know if Izzy knows yet.

She will soon enough and Alec sobs because he knows she’ll do something stupid. Isabelle Lightwood would go to war for her brothers, she’s so stupid, reckless and single minded when it comes to them. Never really thinking beyond protecting them. It’s bad enough he’s suffering, that he and - _oh god_ \- that he _and_ _Jace_ are suffering. He doesn’t want Izzy in the same boat right along with them. 

Jace needs her. He needs her now more than ever. Because the bond is gone, ripped and burned and cut away like all the other runes except this one they dug at, they clawed at it. It was anchored deep in his very soul so they had no choice but to dig past his screams and all the crying and the begging for them to  _ stop please just stop _ . They pulled it out of him, tearing it away like flesh from bone but infinitely more painful. A wound that’ll bleed until his last day. And the worst thing wasn’t even the pain, it was feeling Jace right there along with him. Jace who kicked and screamed and  **fought them** . He fought them as they took the bond away from him and Alec. 

Until suddenly...he wasn’t there anymore. The loss far worse than any of the pain he’d felt before it.

It’s like someone has taken a lung, Alec can barely breathe, barely survive without it. 

Alec knows he can survive though, but what kind of life is it really? He’d forgotten what it was like to exist in a singular state, it’s been  _ Jace and Alec _ for so long that he’s not sure how to be just  _ Alec  _ anymore.

He wants to curl in on himself, let time have it’s way with him and leave him a skeleton on the staircase. Let him turn to dust and let all the pain blow away with the wind. Anything but face a lifetime of this aching emptiness in his chest. 

He gets up instead. 

It takes him three tries, his legs feeling disconnected and fuzzy, but he makes it eventually. Hunched over and panting, his shirt soaked through with a feverish sweat he climbs the remaining stairs by pushing himself up along the wall in short jerky movements. More a less a crawl to the main landing. 

When he finally reaches it, that’s it, he’s got nothing left. It took everything just to get here. To actually move after they left him outside the Institute took so much and navigating the city, keeping his guard up, has taken every last drop of strength. 

So he sits, leaning against the wall and precariously close to falling down the flight of stairs. He loses more time, how much he doesn’t know but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was hours. He fades in and out, disoriented without a window to judge how fast the world is moving without him. 

Soon he hears the echo of Magnus’ voice close to the entrance of the loft and knows any second Magnus is going to find him, so he relaxes against the wall, all the fear seeping away. The slow heavy throb of his own heartbeat pulls him into a limbo, a half meditative state  just between pain and nothingness. 

“Alexander!” Magnus’ worried shout jerks Alec back to awareness painfully. His muscles tensing for a fight that’s not coming. A habit, he briefly wonders if it’ll fade with time now he’s no longer a Shadowhunter.

“Mags…” Alec breathes and realises just how raw his throat feels when he can barely manage more than that. He can’t see Magnus, his back to the loft door just a short walk down the hall. It doesn’t matter though, Magnus is at his side in a blink - magic? Or is he fading in and out of consciousness without realising it. Alec’s not sure. 

With a familiar snap of Magnus’ fingers, his hands take on the soft blue haze Alec has been entranced by more times than he can count. Magnus’ hands hover over Alec and suddenly the burning throb is soothed. That ripped raw feeling like he’s been dragged across asphalt bare, ripping away a layer of skin, is iced over and Alec sighs softly, it’s the first relief he’s had in hours. With the agony slowly being chased away from his muscles and bones, Alec begins to feel the exhaustion take its place. His eyelids become like anchors, dragging him down into the realm of Morpheus. Alec fights it though but only because Magnus sounds desperate as he begs him to stay with him, so he forces his eyes open once more. 

“That’s it Alexander, just stay awake for me please,” Magnus says softly, his voice shaking. Alec shuffles, groaning as the pain flares momentarily before Magnus’ magic soothes it again. 

“Hur’s,” Alec complains and Magnus nods sharply. 

“I know sweetheart, I know...and I promise you can sleep soon but for now just stay with me,” He pleads and Alec trusts him, has always trusted him. What’s one more leap? 

“‘Kay.”

He’s rewarded with a smile, a little shaky but still enough to get Alec’s lips twitching in response. Magnus quickly returns to his work though, not even pausing to enjoy Alec’s smile like he usually does and that’s enough of a warning sign for Alec. He’s in a bad way, a  _ very  _ bad way. It’s one thing to feel it, the agony, but the urgency in Magnus’ hands roving above him...

It takes Alec a few goes to focus his eyes, confused at first by what he’s seeing but yes - yes Magnus is  _ shaking _ . Just a quiver really, almost unnoticeable and if you didn’t know him it could easily be passed off as the power he’s wielding. Except Alec does know Magnus. Magnus’ control on his magic is as absolute as Alec’s ability with a bow. Like breathing, it’s simply in the background, an extension of themselves.  _ They don’t shake _ . 

But Magnus is. 

Magnus is shaking and frowning down at him, swallowing thickly as he holds back his emotions, fingers dancing above Alec moving swiftly as he tries to stitch him back together. 

“‘M ‘kay,” Alec tries to reassure him, alternating between shushing Magnus weakly and pawing at Magnus’ leg with limp fingers. He doesn’t help himself really. Magnus looks torn between that an awful rage and concern. 

“You are far from okay my angel, what --” The question dies on Magnus’ lips and Alec is briefly worried he’s lost the ability to hear. The thought of not being able to hear Magnus makes him whimper. Thankfully he feels the vibration in his throat and hears the soft wounded noise. Alec breathes deeply with relief. Not deaf, Magnus has just gone silent. His question caught in his throat. 

Alec feels the ghost of Magnus’ touch over his neck, hovering just above the site his deflect rune was once etched. His hairs rise to greet Magnus, drawn just like the rest of him always is to Magnus’ presence like a moth to a flame. 

But it hurts. The awareness almost like a physical press into his bruised and battered oversensitive body. He flinches away from it and Magnus pulls back with a wounded look. Which is just as painful as the phantom touch. 

It’s pretty obvious what’s happened to Alec and Magnus doesn’t even attempt to finish his question, he just looks over Alec, this time paying attention to his rumpled sweaty state. Alec’s not sure just how bad the damage is, he just knows the runes are gone. He could be bleeding out for all he knows and what a sight that would have made struggling through New York, unable to glamour himself. But he doubts he would have made it to Magnus’ loft if he was. 

Whatever he looks like it’s not pretty because the rage is back in Magnus’ eyes. It burns so hot that the usual twinkling brown is overtaken by a deep cold black that reminds Alec of freshly formed rock from lava flows. Cold on the surface but something burning just beneath, something dangerous that could swallow his enemies whole leaving nothing behind. 

“Let’s get you inside,” Magnus says and before Alec can protest, explain how he can’t even stand right now, he’s swept up into Magnus’ arms gently and carried back into the loft. 

Magnus’ magic closes the door behind them with a loud slam. The only visible crack in Magnus’ thinly controlled demeanor. He bypasses the living room entirely, keeping Alec tucked to his chest as he carries him into the softly lit bedroom. 

Alec whimpers when Magnus gently places him on the bed, not out of pain though. In Magnus’ arms he’s weightless. Safe and warm and loved and he misses it instantly, he reaches out for Magnus before he draws away. 

Magnus doesn’t go far though, he settles on the edge of the bed next to Alec’s hip, one hand dancing above him magic curling between his fingers and Alec like a trail of smoke and cooling the wounds that seem to have been burned right down to the bone. His free hand finds Alec’s searching one and he tangles their fingers together, gripping just as tightly to Alec as Alec is to him. 

“What happened Alexander?” Magnus asks softly, he looks utterly devastated. 

Alec wonders if Magnus has seen someone deruned before or if it’s just the state of Alec that’s upset him so much. Either way, Alec doesn’t want to talk about it, the phantom agony feels far to near and he’s worried if he pokes at those raw memories he’ll be overwhelmed by the pain once more. He’s not sure he could survive round two. No. He’s not sure he’d  **want** to. 

Alec licks his dry lips as he stares up at the ceiling through burning eyes, struggling to find any words. Magnus tracks the movement and with another quick snap of his fingers there’s a straw at his lips and Alec chaces it greedily, as soon as he gets his lips around the straw (with Magnus’ help) he sucks the cool water down. It feels like  _ heaven _ . 

“Easy! Easy my love, there’s plenty. Just take it slowly,” Magnus guides him, moving a little away with the water to get Alec to listen to him. Alec relents and drinks slower until his throat feels less like a the cracked earth of a desert and more like an oasis. 

He shuts his eyes and rests for a moment as Magnus moves the cup to somewhere nearby but out of the way. 

“Alexander…?” Magnus prompts softly. 

“They deruned me,” Alec offers up quietly after a few mintutes of silence. 

“That much I figured out on my own,” Magnus says but there’s no amusement in his tone, no judgement. Just words to help coax Alec along with his explanation. But Alec barely hears him over the growing roar in his ears.

“ _ They deruned me _ ,” Alec says again, the weight of his new reality beginning to settle on his shoulders and chest. It pushes down against his ribs and he struggles to breathe. There doesn’t appear to be enough air in the room. 

Alec pushes himself up on shaky arms, hoping that sitting upright will dislodge the weight and let him breathe again. 

It doesn’t. 

Alec’s gasping for air that seems to have been sucked out of the room and replaced with a god awful burning that feels like fire in his lungs, the smell of burning flesh tickles his nose again and he can taste it at the back of his throat making him gag. 

He wants out of the room. 

He  _ needs  _ to get out. 

Alec tries to get up, to leave but Magnus is hovering over him, pushing him back onto the bed and trying so hard to talk to him but his words are far way. Lost to the roaring storm in his mind. 

Magnus presses a hand against Alec’s breast bone, against the weight already there and for one fearful moment Alec thinks this is it, his chest is going to cave in. 

And then air fills his lungs again. 

Magnus pulls him close, his hand still on Alec’s chest as Alec gasps through great heaving lungfuls of sweet,  _ sweet  _ air. Alec goes willing, curling himself into Magnus’ arms and burying his head in Magnus’ neck. He breathes in deeply catching the subtle scent of sandalwood and let’s it banish the phantom scent of his burning flesh. 

He doesn’t realise he’s crying at first. But once he does he can’t seem to stop it. Magnus’ arms encircle Alec, one hand cradling Alec’s skull softly as he rocks them both gently. 

“Shush, shush, shush, I’ve got you. I’ve got you,” Magnus comforts him and Alec melts against him. 

They spend minutes like that, time stretching out as Alec just breathes Magnus in. He ignores everything beyond their embrace. He feels drained and raw but with Magnus it fades into the background, little more than an annoying buzz that he flicks away.  

Eventually though his muscles begin to protest from the curled position he’s still in and the world beyond them can’t be ignored anymore. 

“They didn’t try Magnus...” Alec whispers, his voice cracking like thin ice stepped on.  

“Hush love, it’ll be okay, it’ll be okay,” Magnus promises and Alec realises he’s still pouring his magic into Alec, banishing the lingering pain that still clings to his bones stubbornly. Alec’s warmed by it, warmed by Magnus’ determination that he not suffer no matter how draining it is on his magic. But there’s an icy feeling unfurling in the pit of his stomach, undoing all of Magnus’ hard work and he can’t ignore it. It won’t let him. Alec shakes his head against Magnus’ chest and pulls away. 

“No, no it’s - no, they didn’t try. They  _ didn’t even try _ ,” Alec stresses as he clutches at Magnus’ arms weakly. With no strength left, Magnus could easily shrug him off but he doesn’t.    

“Who didn’t Alexander?”

“My parents,” Alec says, his voice cracking sharp like broken glass that cuts it way out his throat. The words are foreign now, like another language, they no longer fit or make sense to him, they feel  _ wrong  _ on his tongue, “ _ They didn’t  _ **_try_ ** .” 

Magnus gapes at him. Hesitating out of fear for the answer, “Alexander... what happened?”

“They wanted me to choose,” Alec says and Magnus’ eyes shut, his whole body going stiff under Alec’s hands. The words sound damning and almost accusatory now they’re out in the open but that’s not how Alec means them. He’s half afraid Magnus will pull away from him so he clings tighter just in case, he’s not finished just yet, he needs Magnus to hear it all, “They wanted me to choose between you and them...but it wasn’t about  _ you _ , not really, it wasn’t about you. It was about  **me** \- they wanted me to choose. They wanted me to choose what was more important...their image of me - their idea of me or  _ me _ . The real me.”

“Oh Alexander,” Magnus says sorrowfully finally understanding, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes. 

“I chose me, I chose  _ me _ ,” Alec whispers in shock, he still can’t quite believe it. Even with the pain seizing every inch of him. It still feels like a far off dream instead of the cold, hard reality. It doesn’t match up to any of his fantasies, his secret hopes. Not one bit. All the times he’d imagined it, the day he stopped hiding and finally stood up for himself, this isn’t one of the scenarios he’s contemplated in the darkest hours of the most sleepless nights, “I thought they’d be proud. I stood up for myself. I thought they’d be proud of me...I thought that I could be enough, that I was enough. But I - But I wasn’t. I wasn’t ever going to be enough...was I?”

“I’m so sorry Alexander,” Magnus comforts him, his hands gentle as he caresses Alec’s face. There’s an old sadness in his eyes and it’s all the answer Alec needs. He knew it, logically he did. But he had hope. He had so much hope and now there’s  _ nothing _ . He’s lost his home, his family, his job...everything. Everything except Magnus and even then what right does he have to a warlock when he’s little more than a homeless mundane now. 

“They took my rune’s, they took my - they took  _ Jace _ ,” Alec says brokenly and the thought of the gaping hole in his chest where Jace’s presence was once curled draws another cry from him, a desperate grieving sound, “Was it selfish of me? Was it selfish to choose me instead of what they wanted?”

Magnus pulls him closer and quickly reassures him, “No, no it wasn’t selfish.”

He rests his forehead against Alec’s and rubs his hands up and down Alec’s arms comfortingly. But it doesn’t chase away the feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. If he’d just tried harder maybe…

It’s the same old questions. The ones he’s asked himself time and time again. Over and over. Was Alec worth it? Was it all worth it? The price seemed so damn high to just be who he was and everybody kept telling him how wrong it was to want this, to want men instead of women. Jace and Izzy never said a word against him but they were  _ family _ . They were his siblings. They loved him. And maybe they just didn’t know any better. What if they were lying to him the same way he lied to Izzy about that dress she wore one time? The ugly orange one that reminded Alec of demon excrement. He didn’t understand fashion so he’d lied and said it suited her to spare her feelings. What if it was the same thing? What if they didn’t understand at all but just wanted to spare his feelings?  _ What if his parents were right _ ? 

“I let them down, I let everyone down. I could have --”

Magnus, sensing his inner turmoil like always, grabs his face and turns him to look Magnus straight in the eye, his gaze dark and furious. But the anger is directed at Alec, despite the sudden grab his hands are soft as they cup Alec’s face, protective even. His thumbs rubbing away the pain gently, “Could have what Alexander? Could have buried yourself under the perfect solider act? Could have married Lydia for the sake of a reputation that already meant  _ nothing _ ?  _ What _ ? Ask yourself this Alexander, if you could have - if  _ you  _ were willing to destroy yourself for them... why couldn’t they do the same?” 

Alec opens his mouth to defend them.  _ Again _ . 

He stops himself though. Magnus’ eyes implore him to  _ listen _ , to  _ think _ about what he’s just said so Alec does. 

He thinks about their unwillingness to change, the way that they learned nothing from their time in the Circle and their punishment afterwards. How they still treated Downworlders like they were beneath them. The way Alec and Izzy and Jace have just about killed themselves to make their parents proud and in return,  _ nothing _ . Izzy is still treated like the black sheep of the family for her dalliances, Jace is only loved when he’s breaking the records and Alec… Alec gets deruned for being himself. There wasn’t even an attempt on their part to understand Alec, it was always an ultimatum. It was their way or nothing. And now he’s paid the ultimate price while they watched, while they were the ones who requested it.   

“They didn’t even try to understand me,” Alec finally admits. He looks into Magnus’ eyes and asks the question he’s kept locked away for years, too afraid of the answer, “Why?”

“I wish I knew darling. I don’t though, there are so many reasons people like them can’t or won’t try to understand people like us,” Magnus sounds world weary. 

“I’m their son,” Alec says, “ _ I’m their son _ ! Why didn’t they try?” He demands, he hears the echo of it through all the years. Everytime he hid who really was, every time they looked down on him, demanded more of him. Why wasn’t he enough? Why?  _ Why _ ?  **_Why_ ** ?

“I can’t - I can’t answer that Alexander,” Magnus answers honestly, brokenly. He wants to give Alec all the answers but Alec is beginning to realise there aren’t any. There’ll be no letters or explanations or apologies. Alec will never know why he wasn’t enough for them. Why he didn’t deserve their unconditional support and love. He’s  _ never  _ going to know. 

It’s a miserable realisation that opens up a sinkhole in his gut. 

“Was it really so much to understand?” Alec asks quietly. 

“No darling, no it’s not,” Magnus assures him. 

“I just wanted - I just wanted --” 

Their love. A single day when they smiled at him, wide and proud. A dinner that didn’t end in stony silence. A hug that didn’t feel like an obligation. The words ‘I’m proud of you’ without any reason or demand behind it. Everything and nothing and so much and so little. 

“I know darling,” Magnus whispers as he rakes his hand through Alec’s hair softly, his eyes sad, “I know…”

The words are heavy, steeped in meaning and understanding that make them louder than Magnus’ voice. Alec hears them, hears them echo in his chest. He hears the kindred spirit howling alongside his own for something neither of them will ever truly have an answer for. Magnus understands. Magnus understands more than most. 

Alec’s wanted that kind of understanding for years, sought it out in  **_their_ ** eyes. Begged with every breath for it but never got it. He never got the one thing he wanted from them, acceptance. 

Now he knows he never will. 

Alec keens, curling in towards Magnus and Magnus gathers him up again. He rocks Alec gently, holding him close as Alec claws at his back, sobbing into his chest. Alec can barely breathe, gasping in shallow breaths with each loud painful sob as tears soak Magnus’ shirt. 

Alec lets himself grieve. He grieves for his parents, he grieves for their love...he grieves for something that might not have existed in the first place. 

Tomorrow he’ll have doubts again, tomorrow they’ll play the same record, tomorrow he’ll question his decisions and Magnus will fight the worst side of Alec to keep him safe, to remind him he’s ok. Tomorrow he’ll face every insecurity, every doubt and every question he’s ever had. And he’ll repeat it the next day and the next and the next…

Alec’s not sure if it’ll fade eventually or if the questions will be a weight he carries for the rest of his life. 

He wants to have hope again though.   
  


**Author's Note:**

> [Tumblr](https://alineppenhallow.tumblr.com) & [Twitter](https://twitter.com/alineppenhallow)  
> 


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